Ron's Side
by Soccer Freak 101
Summary: Who knows how Ron grew up? Maybe he felt weird being best friends to the Boy Who Lived, while he was the poor person in the family of seven children. Rated T for what might come, I don't know.


Song of the Trees

**A/N: the first chapter's short. I'm still trying to figure out what's going on with this story, so if I discontinue it, just let it be discontinued. I don't own any characters…at least I don't think I do. If I do, I'll make a disclaimer in the next chapter. **

When Rose was born, I couldn't believe it. I had brought something into this world with my wonderful wife, Hermione. And Rose was so cute and small. I was scared that I would break her the first time Hermione put her into my arms. And maybe Hermione was scared of that, too, but she didn't say anything.

The name Rose was a random choice for Hermione and me. We hadn't wanted to name our child after someone important and have the feeling that they have to live up to that person. We wanted our child to live life the way she wanted to.

However, Hermione could tell that I was scared to be a father. Many people are. Harry was scared because he didn't know how an actual father acted. He was raised by the Dursleys, so I expected nothing less, but me? Scared of being a father? I'd had a great father, one I could look up to. And I had a great family. Why was I scared of something I shouldn't be scared of?

It was three weeks after little Rosie had been born that Hermione decided to talk to me.

"Ron," she said, lightly touching my arm. I loved it when she did that, because it made me feel wanted. It made me feel important. "What's bothering you?"

I was ready to make up a lie, but then I sighed. I could never lie to my Hermione. She was my wife, and my first and only love. "I'm scared to be a dad," I had admitted.

Hermione nodded. Then, she handed me a notebook.

"What's this?" I had asked, flipping it over in my hand.

"It's a journal," said Hermione. "I think you should write about your life in it and reflect on the ways a father should act. Maybe write about your time at Hogwarts with Harry and me."

"You want me to write a book?"

Honestly, I couldn't believe she was even mentioning it. My essays back in school had been horrible, even with my spell-checking quill. I had watched my teachers carelessly flip through mine, their eyes looking as if they had never read anything less interesting in their lives. Even George can't expect me to write a report on the shop for anyone.

"I think you should reflect on your life," said Hermione. "Remind yourself what it means to be someone who was there."

I had shrugged and put it away. I didn't use it for three years, but I remember it being a comfort for all those times I felt like I wasn't living up to my fatherly duties.

It wasn't until Hugo was born that I realized I wasn't just raising a girl now, I was raising a _boy_. Boy's are much different then girls. Boys like girls, and when they get older they get dirty thoughts in their minds. I wasn't ready to deal with something like that.

Hermione found me at the kitchen table late one night, drinking a cup of tea. Rose had been asleep for two hours, and Hermione had just finished putting Hugo to bed. Either way, she came up behind me and started massaging my shoulders, and I started sinking underneath her touch. After all those years, I still couldn't believe that I had managed to get such a great wife.

Soon, she dropped something on the table. Something I hadn't looked at in three years. I picked it up and looked at Hermione.

"It's going to be different, raising a boy," said Hermione. "Even I'm nervous. However, I still think that you might need this."

And, for some reason, the thought of this journal inspired me to do something Hermione had never mentioned before. Maybe, instead of writing about how great of a father mine had been to me, I could write about my life. What it's like to have friends be there for you and being there for your friends. Maybe I could write about being best friends with Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, falling in love with Hermione Granger (now Hermione Weasley), growing up with six siblings…I had an entire world opened up to me, just by looking at this little empty book.

And so, here I begin on this journey, through all of those times I felt I was ungrateful to walk the halls of Hogwarts, during the days I thought we would die because Voldemort had returned to power, and meeting the love of my life.

Before I had begun at Hogwarts, my best friend in the whole world had been my little sister, Ginny. Honestly, she inspired me sometimes by the way she was so free-willed. Sometimes, she would talk back to Mum and Mum would punish her, but she wouldn't mind, because she had spoken her mind.

Only a couple of times I had ever spoken back to Mum, but all that mattered was that I spoke back to Mum more times than Percy had ever done, which was never.

Ginny and I used to wake up early summer mornings and steal our brother's brooms out of the broom shed to practice Quidditch. We had made a pact to each other one time that we would both be on the team together. I laugh when I think back to this, remembering how at Hogwarts we had been a bit distant.

Either way, we would practice until we could tell that Fred and George were up, then we would hurry back inside and hang out on the couch. Even though years later I had asked how Ginny had made it onto the Quidditch team, I'd had a feeling that she never stopped practicing.

With Ginny and I, there was never much to talk about. We talked about our hopes and dreams sometimes, but there are things that even I never told her. Like how, when I was little, I didn't care if the person I ended up loving was ugly or dumb. When I was little, I had always had a little fantasy about marrying someone who cared about me a lot, even if I was the dumb one and she was the smart one.

Fred and George seemed to like Ginny a lot more than they liked me, I'm not going to lie. It was probably because Ginny had more nerve then I did, and had a lot to say, continuing to babble about nothing for hours on end if it meant she got the chance to even say something.

So, over the summer's, I would feel left out. Percy would notice this and would try to get me to hang out with him, but I honestly didn't want to.

The year before I went to Hogwarts, Ginny and I spent all of our time together. We were born close to each other, only a ten month difference, and I could tell that she was going to miss me, just like I would miss her. It would be a lot easier if we were just twins, since we act like it anyways.

Sometimes, Ginny and I would walk into the Muggle town, our Weasley jumpers on and pairs of Muggle jeans over our legs. It was the most normal attire we had, and the Muggles didn't stare at us oddly, so we used to figure it was fine.

Of course, we were never able to stay out long, as Mum used to throw a fit if we were ever out longer than two hours. The Muggle kids seemed to like us, and sometimes they would invite us to play football with them. Ginny and I would say yes, of course, but would have to leave after ten minutes because we realized Mum would get mad at us.

It wasn't that Mum was strict. She was just worried about us.

Dad used to be fine with it, though.

Before Mum and Dad let us go into town alone, we had to go with Fred and George. I laugh when I remember this, because back then, those two were the most irresponsible people in the entire world, but Ginny and I had been fine with it.

They used to take us into a Muggle joke shop and show us all of their neat tricks. Their snapping gum, their shocking hand shake, even their magic cards (which Ginny and I weren't too impressed with). However, we really liked the idea of picking locks with hairpins.

Even Fred and George would play football when we were invited to. Back then, wizards didn't know about mobile phones, so obviously us Weasley's never grew up having one. Fred and George seemed to be good at football, though. Probably something to do with the fact that Quidditch is sort of like football…in a way.

The year before Hogwarts was, to say the least, boring. Time couldn't seem to go by fast enough, and yet, I didn't want to go to Hogwarts at the same time as well.

Being a Weasley, you have Charlie, who was once Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as Seeker and works with dragons, Bill, who works for Gringotts in Egypt, Percy, who was going to be Prefect and Head Boy and was sure to get any job he wanted once he graduated, Fred and George, your ingenious pranksters and star Quidditch Beaters, and Ginny, who will say the truth no matter what.

Then, there's me. You're typical wizard. What was I going to do with my life once I went to Hogwarts and, more importantly, once I got out? I had no ambition to do anything. I didn't want to go to work for the Ministry at some boring job. Sure, I wanted to play Quidditch, but as a career?

Anyways, once Hogwarts came, I didn't know what to expect.


End file.
